Tell Me Now
by Satatchi
Summary: Tristan, the scout for King Arthur and his Sarmatian Knights, had just returned from a scouting mission when he learns there's a new knight that had joined the table. Tristan/OC Ratings may change due to later chapters. Previously known as "Only Time"
1. Chapter 1: Test of Honor

Birds chirped in song as the sun rose over a quiet forest. A lone man rode through the early morning mist, his breath clouding in front of him before dissipating into the air. A lone hawk circled over him as his horse loped lazily toward a small clearing. The mans matted, medium length dark brown hair hung in his face as he looked over the side of the grey spotted mare, his golden eyes studying the frozen ground for tracks. The hawk shrieked, its mighty cry echoing off the mountains. Ice formed on the whiskers beneath his chin and the tips of the exposed braids of his hair, making him shudder and pull his cloak closer.

"Blasted British seasons." He mumbled to himself, a slight lilt to his voice as his accent stood out. Raising a hand, he smoothed his iced fingers over the tribal tattoos that marked his high cheekbones. A shrill whistle pierced through the peaceful quiet and the majestic bird landed on his outstretched arm, it's head turning side to side as if studying him.

"What do you say about going home?" The man crooned affectionately to the hawk, his other hand stroking its soft feathers as one would a lover's cheek. The hawk looked at him skeptically but made no other sounds.

"I know it's not Sarmatia," He replied to her stare. "But it's as much a home as we have now."

She ruffled her feathers, reaching down to nip at his fingers affectionately. A small smile graced his bearded lips and he spurred his horse onward, on the path back to Badon Hill.

The lights of the tavern brought warmth to the otherwise cold night. Music, laughter, and drink drew many people to its embrace. The man shook off the cold as he stepped into the large courtyard that stood in the center of the inn.

"Tristan!" A cheerful voice called out, a hand warmly grasped his shoulder. The man, Tristan, grunted and shook off the touch.

"Gawain." He nodded; taking out a dagger and an apple he sauntered over to his usual place, in one of the secluded corners near the back of the tavern.

It's warmer back here, anyways. Tristan concluded, satisfied by watching his fellow Knights drink and act merry. Galahad, the youngest, with his curly brown locks and charming smile that could surely win any woman, sat next to his older brother, Gawain.

Gawain had a barmaid in his lap, laughing as he swigged down his ale. The busty barmaid blushed and laughed at whatever the cheerful knight had just said, her slender hands running through his long honey blond hair. Not unlike Tristan, he had a short blond beard, but unlike Tristan he had startling green eyes. Next to Gawain sat Lancelot, womanizer and second-in-command to their leader Artorius. The wench is his lap was clearly drunk, her loud obnoxious laughter echoed through the tavern. Lancelot had that effeminate face that seemed to attract women. He certainly had enough in bed with him at the end of the day. His black, curly hair and mysterious look probably did all the work for him.

Tristan remembered some of Lances 'woman advice'.

_"Whatcha gotta do is take em." The black haired man gestured wildly, flinging his hands everywhere as his slurred sentences made their way out of his mouth. Tristan held up the obviously drunk man, his arm around his waist as he dragged his brother-in-arms back to the knight's quarters. _

_"Take 'em. And then, And then... What was I talking about?" _

_The scout snorted and eyed the woman walking down the corridor with a glare. The women scurried away, putting a stop the leering that they were giving the defenseless man. _

_"About taking them..." He said quietly._

_"OOOOH right! You gotta take em, Tris, and you gotta make em swoon em. They seem to like the whole mysterious look, know what I'm sayin'. You surely have that, y'know, but you also have that...that...that 'Ima kill you if you get too close vibe' too. Gotta stop doing tha- whydoyadothaman? You scare all the women away."_

Tristan sliced off a chunk of apple and set to examining the rest of his comrades. Next to Lancelot sat Bors, one of his many children on his knee. He was the innkeeper, Vanora's, man. It wasn't the other way around either. The mighty Vanora's temper was a force of reckoning, making even the fearsome Saxons quiver in their boots and mess themselves. Bors's shaved head nodded up and down as he listened to his child, the little one whispering something excitedly in his father's ear. The large scar on the left side of the warriors face was visible in the low light the torches, making him seem more serious and fearful than he actually was. It was almost comical to see him loving his child.

Dagonet sat next to his friend, sipping his ale little by little. The group's healer wasn't much of a drinker, or talker. He almost rivaled Tristan in that category, but not by much. The quiet-spoken warrior had a shaved head like Bors. They had come from Sarmatia together, both from the same tribe, which explained the closeness of the two.

The scout was startled out of his thoughts by a tiny hand on his leg. The brown eyes of one of Vanora's children, Eight, stared up at him. Looking down at the boy, the hunter scowled, watching as the tiny child's lip quivered, and his thumb was instantly sucked into his mouth. Sighing, Tristan put his index finger under Eights chin as tug his little head up. The child's brown locks swayed at the movement.

"Sarmatian boys don't cry, you hear me?" Tristan said quietly, earning a few surprised looks at the knight. He ignored them. "You stop right now, or I'll never tell you where your mum hides the honey."

Those big chocolate eyes lightened up immediately and he nodded enthusiastically.

"No cry." He said through sniffs." I no cry more, Tris."

Tristan nodded, content. He motioned the child to come closer and leaned down to whisper quietly in Eights tiny ear. Eight squealed and launched himself into Tristan's legs, giving the scouts legs a tight squeeze before rushing off into the kitchen.

The night was growing older and older, yet still the drinks kept coming. Eventually the calls of his brothers drew him toward their table. Tristan plunged his dagger in front of Gawain, startling his blond friend.

"Oh, Tristan!" He looked up into the intimidating mans face, smiling. "Nice of you to join us!"

Nodding, the scout sat down and was silent. Soon after, the silence that had settled over the tavern broke and the tattooed man yanked his dagger out of the wood.

Gawain stood up and wobbled, the barmaid in his lap tumbling off onto the floor. Tristan snorted when she huffed indignantly and tried to stand up steadily, to no avail. Her breath reeked of alcohol as she stumbled too close to him and he leaned back accordingly.

"I CHALLENGE you!" Gawain slurred, pointing at Tristan unsteadily. The aforementioned knight raised one eyebrow and went back to carving a pattern on the table.

"You couldn't hit a fly with a needle." He stated coolly, taking a guess at what Gawain was challenging him to. The stool that was tied to a post not far from the table was filled with indents from countless knives being thrown into it.

The tall blond knight snorted and slid one of his daggers from his belt. A stupid grin adorned his face as he waved the shiny object in front of Tristan.

"Try me."

Tristan sighed, but stood up, readying his dagger. He bowed to Gawain, smirking.

"Drunks first."

"I am NOT drunk!" He flailed his arms, moving the sharp blade to and fro. Barmaids scrambled out of the way, keen not to be sliced open whilst at work. Without another word Gawain threw the knife, its blade hitting the center of the wood with a satisfying THWAK. Studying the hilt of his blade, he scout threw the dagger lazily, its blade splitting the hilt of his opponents dagger. Gawain rolled his eyes, sauntering over to pull both daggers out of the wood.

"Cheater." He mumbled, sitting down and cradling his ale to him like a newborn babe.

Galahad looked at Tristan in awe. He knew the man was good with knives, but this?

"Hey, Tris? How'd you manage to do that every single time?"

Grabbing another apple from his pocket, the knight shrugged.

"I aim for the middle."


	2. Chapter 2: The Mentor

**A/N: **_Hey guys! Yeah, I kinda forgot to add an A/N to the last one. Mainly because I haven't been on in so freaking long that I forgot how to do the slightest thing on this website XD Anyway, I was sick today, so I started on the second chapter! And here it is, fresh from my mind onto the computer :D I started this story because I was scrolling down the list of movies that were available On Demand and I saw the title **King Arthur**. I stared at it, wondering where I had seen it. The it hit me. I had seen it countless years before, and it was my favorite movie of all time. So I started watching it again and fell in love with it again. Only this time, instead of falling for Arthur, two other knights caught my attention. Gawain and Tristan. Then I go on to FF and I realize "_There aren't enough Tristan stories out there D:" _So here I am :D I also notice it might be a bit confusing as to Arabelle being a he or she... or both XD Well, since the knights know her as a he, when it's their point of view, Arabelle will be described as boy. When she's by herself and is being talked to she will be refered to as a girl. Just settling somethings that might be confusing! _

_Thank you for the reviews :D I only got two, but because of you guys I decided to not waste my time infront of the TV and do something productive today! So here is "Tell Me Now" Chapter Two, sorry it's a bit short! ENJOY!_ **(****I changed the name because I found another Tristan story with the same name XD I felt bad because it seemed to me that it would be copyrighted under that author. So i picked a different name. Kudos for anyone who can guess where the name came from. HINT: It's from a song. And the artist who sings it!)**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! IF I DID TRISTAN WOULD BE TIED TO MY BED RIGHT NOW! :3**

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><p>The music was dying down and the customers of the tavern were slowly filing out by the time that Jols had come to find them. Tristan looked up sharply as he studied the panting man in the doorway.<p>

"Arthur wants to see you all." He gasped, leaning down to catch his breath.

"Jols, ol' buddy! You're getting old." Gawain remarked blandly as he took another swig from the pint sitting on the table. Jols looked at Gawain critically, eyeing his drunken manner with disdain. Tristan got up and placed money on the table.

"This should be interesting…" Tristan stated coolly as he started walking slowly towards the hall. His brothers followed shortly afterwards. The walk was brief and soon the iron gates that surrounded the impressive building came into sight.

Arabelle looked around the cavernous room with awe. Some of the highest corners were in shadow due to the limited light of the torches and the faint glow of coals dying in the brazier sitting in the center of the room. Surrounding the brazier was a fine wooden table. It was the oddest table Arabelle had ever seen, for it was round. It certainly could fit a lot of people, given its impressive size, yet only two sat at its berth. Artorius Castus and Arabelle herself. The massive doors banged open and several knights strode in. The intimidating one in front had tattoos on his face and said face was set in a determined scowl. The next two, a long blond and a curly, black haired man, were severly inebriated, both having to support the other. They were grinning from ear to ear.

"Who's the new kid?" One slurred, leaning on his blond friend.

Arthur cast a severe look to the both of them and motioned for them to sit.

"I was getting to that, Lancelot." He said critically, giving the two disapproving looks. "So you guys do this every night after we get back from a patrol?"

The blond knight made a noise akin to a horse and slammed the table.

"O'course! How else are we supposed to live with brutes like ourselves?"

"Sound theory, Ser Gawain." Lancelot said with a bow. Arabelle looked shocked.

_These are the men I'm risking my life to be fighting with? _She asked herself skeptically. Her family had no idea that she had left; well they would by now though.

"Just let them try to get me." She mumbled under her breath. "It's my choice. Besides, they were going to take Adien away! There was no way I'm giving my younger brother away to a slaughter house."

A slaughterhouse it was indeed. The table would have easily fit 15 more knights, but only 7 were left. While she was mumbling the man sitting next to her, the one with the blue talon shaped tattoos, glanced at her. She ignored him.

"His name is Iwain and he comes from the Sarmatian clan Hycri." Arthur's rich baritone disrupted her thoughts. At this the scout's head snapped up, looking at Arabelle with much more intensity. She jumped; startled at hearing the name she had chosen for herself. It was illegal for a woman to do anything but be pretty, marry men, and have strong babies. What she was doing wouldn't just get her a jail sentence; she would be killed on sight if she was found out.

Everybody was eyeing her like a wolf pack eyes a piece of raw, bloody meat. Shivering, Arabelle stood and bowed slightly before sitting back down.

The meeting didn't last long and soon everybody was filing out. Arthurs voice rang through the quiet evening air.

"Tristan! Show our new recruit to his rooms, please."

The knight that had been sitting next to Arabelle grunted. Casting a look at her, he motioned for her to follow him. They walked in silence, neither having much to say, their boots rasping against the wooden floor the only noise in the small hallway. Tristan cast his eyes down on the boy. His red hair was cut sloppily, some of the sections uneven. Most likely done himself or his mother. The boy's eyes were a startling green, framed by long lashes.

_He's not going to last long_. Tristan thought grimly, taking in the kids smooth skin and exceptionally groomed fingernails. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the rough wooden door.

"Here." The scout grunted then briskly walked away.

Arabelle stood outside and stared at the knight's retreating back.

"He's so serious." She muttered as she pushed the door open. The room was sparse, a simple wooden bed with a straw mattress sat under a small window. A roughly hewn bedside table sat next to the bed. There were two doors leading off to the right.

_So I get my own washroom and privy. _She thought to herself, relieved. If there had been only a bathhouse, she didn't know what she would do. A small wood-burning fireplace sat in the corner next to the two doors, mainly used to keep the room warm and heat water for a bath. Off the other side of the room sat another door. Opening it, she walked into another room almost identical to hers. The main door to the room opened, revealing the blond knight.

_What was his name? Oh, Gawain. _Arabelle thought frantically. Embarrassed, she backed away from the man. His blue eyes wandered around the room till he noticed the small woman.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't know I had a visitor." He winked, sitting down on the bed with a sigh. "Sorry, man. But I need to sleep." He stated while yawning.

"Right." She muttered, retreating back to her room. Sighing, she sat down on the bet and soon she was asleep.

The next morning, Tristan found himself once again in the company of the young woman.

"Iwain." He nodded at her. Arabelle scowled, still not used to being called Iwain. They were sitting in Vanoras Inn, eating breakfast with the other knights. Gawain noticed her scowl and mistook it for a reaction to the Scouts terseness.

"Don't mind him, Iwain. He's always a grouch. I, however, am as cheerful as you can get." He said as-matter-a-fact. Galahad snorted into his watered down wine, causing everybody to look up at him.

"What?" it was Gawains turn to scowl. "It's true!"

Galahad shook his head and returned to his meal. Arabelle smirked and began picking at her food.

Soon she was called into the hall to meet with Arthur. The roman commander sat at his table, staring her down as she walked into the room.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" She said, her Hyrci accent now plainly obvious. Artorius nodded and gestured her to sit.

"I called you here to discuss your training." His rich voice carried across to her seat. "What are you exceptionally well at doing?"

The Sarmatian girls brow scrunched as she thought.

"I handle a bow well. I also am good at tracking and hunting, living on a farm has taught me that well. I can use a sword, to an extent." She shrugged. Arthur nodded, his fingers running across the black stubble along his olive skin.

"Very well. We had more scouts. Until... circumstances took them away from us, and now Tristan is only one of a kind. You will train with him from now on."

She nodded and stood, getting ready to leave when Arthur's rich baritone cut her off.

"And, Iwain? You don't need to call me Sir. Just Arthur."

"Yes Si-Arthur."


	3. Chapter 3: Training

_**A/N: Like a boss :D I managed to squeeze this into my time. Hopefully this is slightly better that last chapter (Which was written while I was delirious with a cold) and I had no decent conception of what a good story was supposed to be ^^' So Here's chapter three! For those of you who are new to reading my stories, I rarely update them... Personally, I'm socking myself by me actually writing these chapters so quickly. Albeit, they are a bit smaller. BUT the good part of that is it means I'll be able to update quickly! So I hope you enjoy the next part of the Tristan/Arabelle series! 3**_

**Grace: **_Thank you :) I try really hard to make him less of the taciturn old grouch he resembles in the movie XD Lets hope I can keep doing that without him getting too OOC :D _

**BlackWiltedRose: **_Ugh, I'm not in college yet ^^' But from what my boyfriend says, it can be challenging sometimes XD See, I'm only a Junior in highschool, soooooo yeah :D I thought of the plot line of this story from other books I have read where a woman goes undercover as a man (either back in the day or in modern days). Besides, I'm trying to branch out from the crowd. The other stories I have read have only girl characters that fall in love with our favorite knight and then... that's that! I think this adds to the mystery a bit more ;)_

**e1311: **_I'm glad you like it :) I'm still debating on which character will find out first. It's a tie between Dagonet and Tristan. We'll see :) _

_**And THANK YOU all the other people who have reviewed and/or added this story to your favorites and alert list :) Love you all 3 **  
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><p>A loud bang woke Arabelle the next morning. Looking around blearily, she noticed her door had been thrown open to reveal a tall figure. She watched the outline cautiously as it stood in the doorway.<p>

"Get up." An accented voice growled. "It's dawn, time to start your training."

Grumbling, Arabelle looked through her disheveled bangs at the scout, glaring at him. The man snorted and walked out without another word. Once she was properly attired, she made her way out of her quarters. Her teacher sat on a stool by the brazier in front on the stables, peeling an apple.

"You must really like apples." She commented smoothly as she walked past him to where her black stallion, Kharu, stood. The scout looked at her, his golden eyes flashing dangerously.

"Very observant." He mocked, a smirk on his face. "You're skills overshadow mine own."

Arabelle huffed at his ridicule. Ignoring his remark she tugged her saddle onto her horse and tightened it's girth. She noticed Kharu was holding his breath, sucking in his belly to make him appear less wide. She scowled and lightly slapped his flank. He snorted and glared at her over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes and gave him a cube of sugar.

"You spoil him." Tristan's low voice sounded near her ear. She gasped in surprise at his sudden closeness. He moved from behind his student to examine the stallion. "Strong legs, broad shoulders, long mane." He ran his hands along Kharu's neck, patting the beast tenderly. Arabelle looked at the knight in surprise, shocked to see this tender side of the usually gruff man. Tristan looked up at the recruit, taking in her dumbfounded expression with amusement. He pointed the dagger at the reigns behind her.

"Bridle him and lets get a move on."

The air was crisp as they set out from Badon Hill. Kharu snorted, as he was more than relieved to be out of his stall. Screeches made the red haired woman look up and saw a lone hawk circling them. They made their way to the practice fields, which were deserted at this time of day. Tristan looked back at his student, studying her tired appearance. Chuckling lightly to himself he dismounted and motioned for her to do the same.

"Go fetch a bow." He commanded tersely. Arabelle glared at him but did as she was told. Walking over to the wooden barrels, she selected a bow and tested it mettle. It was too taunt, the wood seeming almost too brittle to even bend. Shaking her head she selected another one. This one was too loose, its flax string pulling back too far. Tristan watched her carefully through his bangs, his hands fixing his own bow with ease. Snorting in annoyance the redhead pivoted on her heel, glaring at the knight as if it was his fault.

"All these bows are USELESS!" She huffed, her arms crossing over her body. The scout raised an eyebrow and her temperament and lazily sauntered over to stand beside her. He knew they were all useless; he himself had purposefully filled the barrel with the worst bows he could find throughout the fort.

_He's not as hopeless as I first thought_, He thought while picking through the bows as though he was inspecting them himself. Turning toward the youth, he smirked and nodded his head toward his horse.

"Come, boy."

Arabelle didn't respond at first, still getting used to her circumstances as a boy. After a half second she nodded and followed her mentor. Her hand suddenly flew to her face and a small training bow was tossed her way.

"You passed your first test." His voice sounded from the other side of the spotted mare. "But lets see how you hold up with your second one." Soon he reappeared from the other side of the horse. Shoving a quiver full of arrows at her, he turned and walked briskly to the edge of the training fields. He stopped and examined one of the many trees that outlined the sun-forsaken field, seemingly looking for something. Before she had opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, Tristan took one of his daggers and pinned a piece of cloth to the trunk. Walking back he pointed at the cloth.

"You are to hit it." He stated stoically.

"From here?" Arabelle looked at him incredulously. That was an impossible feat, even for her. Groaning when she saw him nod, she took an arrow and knocked it onto the string. Drawing it back to her ear, she was about to release it when she felt gentle hands on her elbow.

"You're elbow is too high, it would have gone wide. Try it again."

She took a deep breath and released. The arrow thudded into the wood a couple feet below the white cloth. The knight nodded, taking an arrow of his own and hitting the cloth dead on. Arabelle's jaw dropped as she stared at the tattooed man. Tristan smirked at her expression and moved aside for her to try it.

The rest of the day had her trying to hit the cloth. By the time the sun was high, and the weather hat turned into a morbid heat that made both their hair stick to their skin, she had managed to successfully hit the small target twice. Satisfied, the young Sarmatian fell onto the cool grass. A large shadow hit her and she sighed, looking up into the face of her smirking teacher. Before she could protest, she was hit with an apple, a piece of bread, and some cheese. She stared at the food in confusion.

"It's already noon." The scout said quietly and sat down next to her. "I'm not so cruel as to deprive you of food." Taking out his knife he started carving on a small block of wood. There was a small silence between them, not uncomfortable at all. Arabelle slowly chewed her food and studied Tristan.

"What?" He asked, clearly annoyed at her incessant staring.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I already ate."

"Oh…" Came the quiet reply. Tristan glanced at her and contemplated saying something.

_I shouldn't have to say anything_. He scowled. _I never cared to say anything to anyone before_.

"You're from Hycri?" He asked quietly, damning his mouth for not listening to his brain. The redheads posture stiffened. A silent nod was all he got in return.

"Interesting." He said to himself. Putting down his dagger, he grabbed her chin in his fingers and turned her head towards him. His thumb stroked her cheekbones gently. Arabelles face started turning red and she tried to yank herself from his firm grip.

"You don't have these." He used his free hand to point to his own tattoos. "How old are you?"

Her eyes widened at his question.

"N-nineteen." She stuttered, flustered at the gentleness of his fingers.

Amber eyes narrowed.

"Nineteen? You should have had these when you were at least 15." Tristan growled slowly. "It's a right of passage for all Hycri boys." He released her face and took a step back. Taking in a slow breath, the young Sarmatian looked at her mentor.

"I was born in Sarmatia, but never stayed there past my third year." She revealed. "My da had been killed by the Romans when he refused to give his younger brother to their service. My mother fled to a Roman settlement here in Briton. I grew up there, in Eboracum."

The scout listened quietly. After she had finished he nodded, stroking his beard as he mulled it over.

"So you never were old enough to go through the rights."

She nodded quietly, thankful that he didn't question any further. The scout cleared his throat and stood. After two minutes of pacing back and forth, he stood in front of her, looking down.

"Would you… Would you like me to perform the ceremony?" He asked hesitantly. Green eyes flashed up to meet his. She looked at him warily, knowing that, through his reputation he wasn't one for generous things. He was cruel, ruthless, and utterly merciless.

Arabelle nodded, slowly standing up to stand eye to eye with him.

"I'd be honored."

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><p><em><strong>AN: aaaaaand that's a wrap! I hope you liked it :3 I'm almost done with Chapter 4, so expect that this week too :) Peace out! ~Satatchi**_


	4. Chapter 4: Discovery

_**A/N: SOOOOOOOOO! It's only been an hour since I last updated XD yeah, I'm on a roll... not really, since this is short. I really hope you guys enjoy this one as well. I will now be uploading everything as soon as I get a chapter finished. So yeah, it may take a week, it may take a few seconds. But anyways, here's chapter 4! Short but ties up some of the conflicting issues that last chapter presented. AND this chapter presents even MORE conflicting issues :D YAY! I'm about ready to get started on Chapter 5, so have no fear. That also might be added somewhere tonight, if I'm lucky and write fast :3 **_

_**Anyway, here's the next installment of Tristan/Arabelle. :D Enjoy!**_

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><p>Cold air rushed through the valley that night. Tristan retreated even further into his riding cloak. Sokol swirled in the air above, trailing lazy circles with her wings. He had contemplated taking Iwain with him, but the boy needed rest. Something about the young Sarmatian didn't rest well with the scout. There was something off about him, even though there wasn't anything very suspicious about him. Shaking his head, the bearded man rid himself of the thought like a wet dog.<p>

"There's nothing wrong with him." He whispered to himself in his native tongue. His amber eyes searched the ground for tracks, anything that might betray the Woads movement.

_I go on these missions to clear my mind_. He scolded himself. _Not to worry_ _about naïve boys with smart mouths._

Arabelle shivered in her blankets. She had already added layers to the bed, putting on her breeches, even going so far as to dressing herself in a tunic. There was raucous laughter coming from the hallway as a group of drunken people passed by. There was a quiet knock on her door, which made her jump.

"Yes?" She asked cautiously. She couldn't hear Gawain's response through the door so she went over and yanked it open.

"What?"

The blond knight looked at her, bemused.

"You've spent time with Tristan." He observed with a subtle smile.

Narrowing her eyes, Arabelle scoffed and threw her head back.

"And why do you say that?"

"You're not a scared little mouse anymore."

The redhead turned back at the swordsman and glared. Her protests died on her lips as Gawain laugh heartily and yanked her out of the room, dragging her down the hallway.

"Unhand me, you brute!" Fists pounded on the muscular arms of her captor. This only served to amuse the knight more and low chuckles could be heard.

"You hit like a girl, little mouse."

That comment made her stop, too shocked to move. Arabelle huffed once she heard his laughter start up again, realizing he was just jesting her.

"You tell jokes like a bard." She shot back.

"You wound me." He cried dramatically, putting his free hand on his heart. After a moment, he responded in a mock serious voice: "You're right though, bards are horrible at telling jokes."

"And at everything else." Arabelle laughed. Gawain snorted. Soon she regained her senses, figuring they were going to the tavern. The laughter was loud and spirits high as they strolled over to the table. The other Knights welcomed her warmly. A warm mug of ale was pushed into her hand, which she looked at cautiously.

"It's like you think we would poison our own." Bors snorted. The young knight glared at the older one and took a swig of the ale, just to prove she wasn't afraid. Galahad laughed and pulled a tavern girl into his lap.

"He's a feisty one, alright." Galahad winked at her, which Arabelle promptly ignored. Taking another drink, she glanced around the table. She frowned at the absence of a certain scout.

_Where did he go? _She wondered while trying to drown out the others. She stopped. _Why do I even care? _But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling of his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Which reminded her of another problem. The ceremony. She knew it had had to be done, now that she had agreed to it. She also knew that the ceremony required her to be unclothed, which was the problem. A day has gone by since she came to the fort, and she was already close to losing her status as a boy.

_That can't happen. _She shook her head furiously. _But how to outsmart the scout? It's almost impossible. _

"_You're time's running short,"_ The voice in her voice reminded her. _"He'll find out eventually. Why not sooner than later? It'll make him more angry if you hide it from him longer." _

Her face contorted into a scowl and she shoved a mental gag in her 'helpful' voice. Of course, Arabelle knew it had to happen sometime. It was inevitable. She'd only wished it wouldn't have to happen so soon.

_Me and my huge mouth. _She scolded herself.

"You alright, Iwain?" Came a gentle voice from her right. Looking up, she stared into the gentle eyes of Dagonet. All the talk had stopped at the table and every eye there was turned to her. She shook her head, clearing it.

"I'm fine." She smiled. "Just tired."

Dagonet nodded. "Understandable. Tristan isn't the most lenient of teachers."

At this Arabelle snorted. A sudden shouting came from the courtyard.

"Where is she? ARABELLE?" A loud, rough voice called. A large man came into view, his face red from shouting. Arabelle blanched, staring at the burly man. His dark brown hair and shaggy beard was familiar. He stood about 6 feet tall with a rotund belly that protruded many inches over his belt.

"I… I need to leave." She said quietly, tugging at Dagonet's sleeve. The healer looked her over, checking her forehead.

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale."

The young Sarmatian eyes were quickly switching from the loud man to the quiet knight.

"I…I…" Then all the color left her face as the man's dark eyes fell on her. His face turned livid as he stormed towards her.

"THERE YOU ARE, GIRL!" He bellowed, yanking her up off the wooden seat. Arabelle started shivering, her face frozen in fear as the man held her tightly. "YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM HOME? YOU THINK YOU COULD ACTUALLY BECOME A KNIGHT?" He screamed in her face. There was a scraping of wood on stone as all the knights stood up, looking from Arabelle's face to the angry man's with something akin to shock. Bors was the first one to react.

"You're crazy. Back off, I don't think Iwain has deserved whatever charge you put against him." He said, placing his hand on the bearded man's shoulder.

"Iwain? WHO in the nine HELLS is IWAIN?" He bellowed. "All I see is some undeserving wretch of a girl trying to blend in with a bunch of knights."

Another hand appeared on the man's other shoulder. A quiet voice sounded from behind his broad shoulders.

"Why don't you put my apprentice down and we'll talk in someplace a bit less public?" The voice drawled. Arabelle relaxed somewhat after hearing Tristan's voice.

The man turned around to yell at the scout, his face went pale. Nodding, he put her down at was led away from the now silent tavern by Tristan. Arabelle was too shocked to say anything, so she sat down on one of the wooden benches heavily. Soon she couldn't handle all the prying eyes and conspiratorial whispers. She fled the scene, her eyes prickling with the first sign of tears.


	5. Chapter 5: Returning

_**A/N: Hey :) So here's Chapter 5, as promised! It's taken longer than I expected, and Chapter 6 isn't coming together as I want it, so don't expect that until I go through that are edit XD **_

___**Druid Archer: **__Thank you :D Here's as you requested *bows* I am always at the mercy of my readers XD_

_**Mhunter: **You make me blush XD I'm happy that people can enjoy this story so much! My stories usually don't get much attention, so I am grateful you like it :) Here's the new chapter :D_

_**And thank you all for your support :) I reaaaaaally appreciate it! So here's the new chapter :D Enjoy! **  
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><p>Wheels of the heavy wagon stirred the packed dirt road. Dust clung to everything, clothes, skin, hair, and mouths. Arabelle watched solemnly as the high stone bulwark of Hadrians Wall receded from view. Her stepfather was in the front of the covered wagon, urging the poor horses onward. Glaring at his sweaty back, she flopped down onto the furs that lined a small corner of the wagon and turned so her back faced him.<p>

Ever since he had gone to have a small 'talk' with Tristan, he'd been quiet. It was strange, as Arabelle was accustomed to his flying rages.

_Not that it's not peaceful._ She admitted to herself. He'd probably start up again once we were out of Badon Hill territory.

Still, whatever the scout had said to him had shut him up good. The young Sarmatian smirked and rolled over again once the wagon hit a bump. Laying on her back, she crossed her hands behind her head and thought, remembering the awful breakdown she had in front of Tristan.

_The door to her room opened and revealed a very grim Tristan. After standing in the doorway for a few minutes, the scout finally made his way across the room. Arabelle sat on the bed, head hung in shame. She knew what came next. The bed indented as her teacher sat and sighed, his frame suddenly slouching._

"_You heard him out, did you?" She whispered quietly. The room was filled with a tense silence as she waited for the answer._

"_Why?" Came the quiet reply. Arabelle's head whipped up to meet the golden eyes of the knight._

"_What?"_

"_Why? Why did you want to come here, against all the odds, and become a knight? To sacrifice much more than just your life, but your dignity as well."_

_She looked at him, dumbfounded. He stared back at her calmly._

"_I… I wanted to save my brother, Adien." She said quietly, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. "He doesn't know the first thing about handling any sort of weapon! He wouldn't have survived one day, let alone 15 years, in this sort of profession. So when the Romans came, I hid him. I know what you want to say, that they couldn't have found out about us, since we were in a Roman settlement. Our brute of a stepfather made sure of that, though. That's also the other reason why I left."_

_Tears started falling immediately. Hugging her knees to her chest, she sniffed as she tried to remain composed. Tristan sighed again and placed his head in his hands._

_I never should have asked. He thought threw his headache._

"_You don't understand, Tristan." She choked out through the sobs. "He… He did things to me. To my mother, too. I just hope that Adien escaped most of it." She started to cry even more, her shoulders heaving with each racking breath. "They always fought, the two of them. About us, the food, even the money. It always ended up with my mother losing or going over the edge, only to be physically beaten down by HIM!"_

_Tristan looked at his trainee's hunched shoulders. Slowly, as if testing the waters of a lake, he put his hand around her shoulders. She froze, and then eventually eased into the simple embrace. It was a small comfort, the only one that the scout could really handle. Arabelle gripped the front of his tunic._

_She's just a child. He frowned. Barely a woman._

"_What will become of me?" She whispered, her fear evident in her voice. Tristan scowled, his thoughts going back to the consequences of a woman trying to do a man's work. He could keep her secret, protecting her from the harshness of the punishment. The scout dismissed the thought with a shake of his head._

"_We will have to tell Arthur." He murmured. "It's the way it has to be."_

"_He will do the right thing." She said quietly. Yes, Arthur would do the right thing, by turning her in._

_Tristan set his jaw, looking at the tearstained face of a frightened child._

"_Rest, little one." He said quietly. "Nothing will harm you. I don't think Arthur will be that cruel. In fact, I know it."_

_She shook her head, but didn't say anything more._

Arthur hadn't turned her in. In Arabelle's case, he had done something even worse. She was grateful for his leniency, though. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that this existence was much better than dying at the hands of cruel, mocking Romans. But only by a tiny margin.

"Girl." Came the gruff order. She sighed and turned her emerald eyes onto her cruel stepfather. His balck, beady eyes bore into her.

"Yes, sir?" She retorted, her brilliant eyes still glaring at him full of hate. It changed into fear once she saw his hand rise, threatening her with the sight of his flabby knuckles. It almost made her laugh to think that so much fat could hurt when it struck. Slowly, Arabelle's stone mask she had learned from Tristan slid into place. A cold defiance crept into her eyes and the bearded man's face had paled.

"We're here."

Recognition flooded her as she heard the sounds of horses passing by and children playing. Backing into the other side of the wagon, she looked past the white flaps of the cloth and saw her looking upon an unfamiliar town.

"This isn't—" She started.

"You're mother and I moved from that wretched town Eboracum. We weren't safe there anymore."

"I wonder who's fault that was." The redhead muttered under her breath. The village was quaint. Small wood homes filled a cramped valley. Trees lined the outside of the settlement, ringing it in like a herd of cattle. She saw the familiar face of her mother, who had tears in her eyes as she watched her little daughter return. Running to her, she took her up in her arms. Crying, her mother led Arabelle was petted and brought back to the small wooden house.

Tristan grumbled as he watched the wagon move away, its bulk disappearing into the horizon. He had contemplated trailing after the wagon; just to be sure she was safe. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself. He sat there for a couple hours, the centurions all familiar with the knight's taciturn, solemn ways didn't dare disturb him. Soon, Lancelot joined his brother-in-arms on the ramparts and pushed a pint of ale into his hands. Tristan took it thankfully, downing the beverage in one gulp. They stood there in a companionable silence for a while until Lancelot spoke.

"Y'know, we just knew her for about a day… yet I already miss her." The dark knight sighed; his hand ran through his curly hair. Tristan looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. He snorted softly and set the clay cup down on the stone in front of him.

"Come on, Tris. I know you miss the little spitfire almost as much as me." Lancelot nudged the knight gently. "Even Gawain is complaining that there's a lack of recruits to tease."

"Then why don't you go get her?" The scout replied quietly. "She would most likely love to come back, don't you think? She risked her life even thinking about coming here to train with us."

"Nah, I think, given enough time, you'll eventually go crazy and gallop off into the sunset to fetch our little one back."

Tristan rolled his eyes at the dark knight's tone, but silently agreed with him. He already missed the girl. And it was only a few hours since she had left. His talk with the father revealed that they had relocated to a small village not far from here. It would be an easy matter to…

_No…why do I even want to? _Tristan scowled as he watched the receding sun turn into a purple-pink sliver of light. These thoughts of late were just confusing. He couldn't get this girl off his mind. _Why is she so important to me? She's just a girl._

He knew why, though. They were among the few surviving members of their clan. They were tied by blood, their ancestors' blood. Grumbling, he excused himself from Lancelot's presence. It was time to go on another scouting mission.


	6. Note

_**A/N: I might as well update SOMETHING! This isn't going to be a chapter, just to tell everybody what's going on. I sprained my knee (AGAIN) a couple of days ago and haven't been in the mood to write anything lately. I had Chapter 6 done and ready but I decided, along with a wonderful review I read, that this is progressing WAY too fast. So I'm going to pull in the reigns a little and rewrite chapter 6 as soon as I can. **_

_**We're also on the ropes for my Les Miserables play. We only have a week left until opening night and it is, to put it lightly, hectic. So there's that mixed with the chaos and drama with school. I just moved schools about a month ago, so I'm still readjusting to that experience. So just bear with me! **_

_**So anyway, this is just an update to tell you why I haven't been updating more. I haven't been ignoring you, just been busy! This will be deleted once I have chapter 6 done, just incase your confused about how many chapters there are XD **_

_**Happy Valentines Day**_

_** ~Kayla (Satatchi) Miller**_


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